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On a warm and humid night a few weeks ago, I finally got around to viewing, “The Revenant,” starring Leonard DiCaprio. For those unfamiliar with the movie, it is set in the 1820s and it follows a fur trapper and frontiersman played by Leonardo DiCaprio as he sets out on a path of vengeance against those who left him for dead after he was mauled by a bear. The cinematography was wonderful. It really captured the bitter cold of winter and the stark conditions of the frontier (although the night I watched the DVD was hot and muggy, it actually looked kind of inviting). The movie was a wonderful tale of survival. It really captured the desire to survive and the will to live. As a story of vengeance, though, it left me with questions and concerns. Perhaps though, that was what it intended to do.
Maybe I have not been hurt deeply enough, but I have never had or felt a consuming desire for vengeance. To be sure, there have been times when my immediate response when someone has done something that has hurt or offended me was the desire to retaliate or get even with them. But those feelings/thoughts didn’t linger for very long, and I was able to move on fairly quickly. The overwhelming desire for revenge, though, is foreign to me.
Now as I was writing the above, it occurred to me that perhaps I am letting myself off the hook too easily. To be honest, I have been known to nurse a grudge. And my old Irish pastor taught me that I should, “bury the hatchet in a shallow grave that is well marked.” I’d like to think, though, that there is a big difference between nursing a grudge and the overwhelming desire for revenge. Perhaps the difference is more in degree than type, but I think there is a difference.
Specifically, I think that when we nurse a grudge there is always the possibility that God’s grace will find an opening, however slight, into our hearts. It seems to me, though, that a consuming desire for revenge omits this possibility. This might sound like I’m splitting hairs, but in my own life I have discovered that when I have been hurt or offended by someone, while this takes up a few bytes of memory, it is not ever-present and all consuming. The desire for vengeance on the other hand seems more intense and in its worst form can be overwhelming. And when something is that consuming, there is no room left for anything else even and perhaps especially God’s grace.
God’s grace is always being offered to us. I believe this is particularly true at those times when we have been hurt physically, emotionally, or spiritually and we want to retaliate. At those times, if we can pray for an openness to the grace God wants to offer us, perhaps our hurt won’t turn into a desire for revenge. And maybe, just maybe if we continue to be open to God’s grace, one day we might even forget where we buried the hatchet.
During this Year of Mercy, it seems particularly jarring to hear stories of families fleeing violence in Syria: The unimaginable terror at home turning into unimaginable terror on the trip toward safety. What state of desperation would lead a family on this journey?
The whole experience of migration in the Middle East and Europe seems unreal, as I live safely in Minnesota. Vulnerable people fleeing for their lives. Countries welcoming—Countries closing their borders. Fear everywhere.
I want to help. But it seems unlikely that I can have any impact. So I wonder, what is the situation on the U.S. border? What is happening in my own country? How are we treating those escaping state sponsored violence or life threatening poverty?
To find answers to these questions, I joined a small group of Basilica parishioners on a trip to the Mexico/US border. We met with groups living and working on the border, and heard stories of people seeking shelter in our country. I learned so much about things I never hear on mainstream media. While I am still processing what I experienced, I am confident about two things: This is an issue our faith calls us to be actively engaged in. And, this is an issue that is very relevant to us in Minnesota.
To be sure, this is a complicated issue. The issue of immigration intersects with a myriad of laws and government policies. It taps into conflicting emotions on national identity. Yet, hearing people share their stories of desperation, and witnessing the physical drama of deportation, I became convicted of the simple truth that we must enter the confusion, learn, and get involved. We must act on behalf of the most vulnerable—to serve, accompany, and defend the migrants on our border. Complicated, yes. But through the lens of faith, a bit more clear.
I learned several things on this trip to the U.S. southern border:
I learned about harsh and punitive policies and laws the U.S. government has put in place, with the expectation that this will deter migration.
I also learned when one is desperate enough—fleeing violence or oppression—these policies or laws are not effective. It is absolutely beyond my imagination to understand the despair one must feel to cross the Mediterranean Sea, or the Sonora desert. Yet, this is the plight of our sisters and brothers all around our globe—including on our southern border. Our neighbors are desperate and need our help. How shall we respond?
I learned, while the Sonora desert is one of the most lush and beautiful deserts in the world, it has also become one of the deadliest corridors for migrants. Since the mid-1990s, at least 6,000 men, women, and children have died trying to cross the US/Mexico border. In an attempt to deter migration, government policies have funneled migrants into the most dangerous and remote areas of the border.
I learned as immigration laws and borders have changed over time—it is now a felony to re-enter the United States without proper papers. A felony crime. As a first-generation American, I am troubled by the criminalization of migration. As a Christian, I am appalled.
I invite you to join me over this next year to learn more about immigration, and to find ways to get involved. Together with migrant brothers and sisters in our community, we can work our way through this complicated issue. Pope Francis states, “Migrants trust that they will encounter acceptance, solidarity, and help, that they will meet people who will sympathize with the distress and tragedy experienced by others.” Let us live up to this trust.
A few weeks ago I read, “Go Set a Watchman,” by Harper Lee for my book group. While much ink has been spilled in debating how it compares with, “To Kill a Mocking Bird,” clearly that is not my area of expertize, so I will not venture into that discussion. I did enjoy the book, and it was a source of a good discussion for my book group. Very specifically, though, I was particularly struck by one sentence near the end of the book. Jean Louise was involved in a long conversation with her uncle Jack around the issues of race and prejudice. At one point her uncle, Jack, said to Jean Louise: “Prejudice a dirty word, and faith a clean one, have one thing in common: they both begin where reason ends.”
When I read these words I was struck by their simplicity, but also their truth. Both prejudice and faith are not grounded in reason or logic. They are an act of the will that has no logical explanation. Now, I suspect some people would argue that with both prejudice and faith there is some rational explanation for them, or that they have their roots in experience and/or knowledge. I believe, though, that when push comes to shove, the proof for this position is elusive and vague.
In speaking of faith, the author of the letter to the Hebrews wrote: “Faith is confidence reassurance concerning what we hope for, and conviction about things we do not see” (Hebrews 11:1). Notice that there is no reference to reason or logic, no attempt to explain faith or give a rational explanation for it. Faith is not a “provable” proposition; it simply is. I think something similar is true in regard to prejudice.
While there are times when I wish there would be some “proof” for my faith, I have come to believe that if this were to occur, I would be very disappointed. Because faith has to do with things beyond our human awareness and comprehension, by its very nature it can’t be proven or gotten to by reason or logic. Faith like prejudice begins where reason ends.
On one level it does bother me a little that faith and reason have in common the fact that they begin where reason ends. On a deeper level, though, I am grateful that faith is not an easy or provable proposition. I want and need something to believe in that is greater than myself and beyond my comprehension. Additionally, though, I am also embarrassed that at times prejudice has crept into my life disguised as insight or knowledge. With both faith and prejudice, the challenge is not to try to use reason as their basis, but to remember that they both begin where reason ends.
What does it take to change a life? One formula includes willing students, committed volunteer mentors and supportive administrators. Two years ago the Basilica entered into a new partnership called, “Hennepin Connections,” with our neighbor, Minneapolis Community and Technical College (MCTC). The premise was simple—pair one volunteer mentor with one MCTC student who had experienced homelessness or poverty.
Mentors were asked to provide support and encouragement to students to help them stay in school and graduate. In its initial year, nine volunteers participated. Students who completed the year received a $1,500 scholarship. The start-up was intentionally small in order to learn if this idea would work and what was needed by the volunteers and students for these relationships to be successful.
In year two, the goal was to grow to 15 students. This May, that goal was exceeded when 17 students and mentors completed Hennepin Connections—now “the buzz” at the college. Andrea Nelson is the Advancement Officer for the MCTC Foundation and recently attended the closing gathering for mentors and mentees. Describing a powerful goodness in the room, Andrea was struck by the volunteer mentors’ comments. “They expressed gratefulness for the friendships and relationships they had forged, and they talked about building a relationship with someone that they didn’t even know a year ago. How often do people of different experiences and different ethnic backgrounds come together and share deep and meaningful conversations?” The surprise for Andrea was that the mentors learned as much as their mentees.
The success of Hennepin Connections means more volunteer mentors are needed. Mentors commit for a school year from September to May, and training and support are provided. Current mentors said it’s important to view the role as a guide, someone who assists as an advisor, and good listening skills are a must.
A volunteer mentor since the start, parishioner Steve Kattke is a strong advocate who actively encourages others to get involved. He shared that it may be hard to understand the barriers students are working to overcome and stressed that a mentor makes a difference. Students struggle with issues like transportation, a place to sleep, or finances while working to achieve their educational goals.
Parishioner Marsha Carlson was a new mentor this year. Last fall, after continuing to hear that students still needed mentors, Marsha joined after the program had begun and jumped right in. Marsha said, “It was easy. At first, we met at MCTC which is across the street the Basilica, and that is how we got to know each other. After that, we would meet or talk on the phone about once a week to check in on how things were going.”
Marsha knew when her mentee had tests and knew when she was struggling. As a mentor, Marsha offered resources and emotional support, and she felt a real bond with her mentee. Over Christmas, Marsha was out of town but kept in touch with her mentee. Her mentee was surprised that Marsha kept calling even while traveling. After the program ended, Marsha learned what meant the most to her mentee was knowing someone besides her family and friends cared about how she was doing.
Serving as a mentor opened Marsha’s eyes to the realities of homelessness. She watched students struggling to achieve their educational goals, but they also worried about where they would sleep that night. Marsha described being a mentor as an amazing experience and definitely worth her time. She plans to serve as a mentor again next year.
Are you called to consider serving as a mentor with Hennepin Connections? This one-on-one ministry is life changing for everyone involved. To learn more, contact Janice Andersen, Director of Christian Life.
A few weeks ago, while I was on my way to visit someone in the hospital, a car pulled in front of me that had a bumper sticker that read: “Got Jesus.” My immediate reaction was a strong sense of discomfort. Not being particularly pleased with that reaction, I decided the bumper sticker merited a little prayer and reflection on my part.
After spending some time reflecting on the bumper sticker, it dawned on me that the source of my discomfort was the fact that from my perspective it was asking the question the wrong way. The question should not be whether we have “got Jesus,” but rather has Jesus got us. From my perspective this is an important distinction.
Implied in the question of whether we have “got Jesus” is the idea that somehow Jesus is our personal possession. This in turn can lead us to make Jesus into what we want Jesus to be rather than allowing ourselves to be formed into what Jesus would have us be. In my own life, I have discovered time and again how easy it is for me to confuse God’s will for me with my will. If I let myself believe that I had “got Jesus,” I worry that my will and God’s will for me would be nearly indistinguishable. I suspect this is true for all of us.
On the other hand, when Jesus has “got” us, this causes us to see things from a different perspective, to acquire a new way of thinking. I believe this was what St. Paul was getting at when he wrote his letter to the Ephesians. In that letter, Paul was urging the new Christians at Ephesus to live no longer as the pagans did. “That is not how you learned Christ! I am supposing, of course, that he has been preached and taught to you in accord with the truth that is in Jesus; namely that you must lay aside your former way of life and the old self which deteriorates through illusion and desire, and acquire a fresh, spiritual way of thinking. You must put on that new person created in God’s image, whose justice and holiness are born of truth” (Ephesians 4: 20-24).
We don’t “get Jesus.” Rather our challenge is to allow Jesus to “get” us. We will know this has happened when we find ourselves acquiring the fresh spiritual way of thinking that St. Paul wrote about.
Who doesn’t love Pope Francis? she asked. He has such an intimate relationship with God. I so envy him. Since I was young, I have always desired the type of relationship with God that is so close and loving on my part that I would never let go of it, and I would protect it all of my life.
She is a good friend of mine and I have always envied the relationship she has with God. It’s funny how that works. She doesn’t even realize that she has it already.
This propelled me to look more closely into how Pope Francis speaks about God, and this quote struck me: This may sound like heresy, but it is the greatest truth! It is more difficult to let God love us than to love Him. The best way to love Him in return is to open our hearts and let Him love us. Let Him draw close to us and feel Him close to us. This is really very difficult letting ourselves be loved by Him. This is perhaps what we need to ask today ‘Lord, I want to love You, but teach me the difficult science, the difficult habit of letting myself be loved by You, to feel You close and feel Your tenderness! May the Lord give us this grace’.
Well, just how did Pope Francis develop his relationship with God or anyone we consider to be holy and close to God? First of all, it probably took a lot of practice in prayer. We often forget that our prayer life is equivalent to quality time spent with family members and friends. If we didn’t spend time with them, we certainly wouldn’t have a very good relationship with them. So prayer has to be the number one priority if we want God to be so much a part of us and everything that we do.
We need to realize that there are many different types of prayer and prayer forms. Explore them and find one that is a fit for you. Talk with people you know who have solid prayer lives, get their suggestions and seek their encouragement. Don’t lose hope. Prayer grows just as our relationships grow. The more time you spend in it, the stronger your relationship will be.
Find a time of day when you will feel least distracted. For some it may be the morning, for others it will be the evening just before they go to bed. Establish the best time for you and stick to it.
It is important to remember that prayer should be 10% talking and 90% listening. Listen with your heart. Quiet yourself and put all distractions aside for the few minutes you plan to be in prayer. Distractions are part of who we are. They will always be there. One wise person told me not to fight the distractions in prayer. Make friends with them and bring those distractions to your prayer.
One of the things I find beautiful about the above quote by Pope Francis is the truth in it. God wants to love us more than we will ever know. Giving God time to do that will certainly change us. Sometimes there are days when all I can do is say: Here I am, Lord. I open my heart to you. Just pour your love into my heart. Then I just sit quietly for a few minutes as I picture God pouring love into my heart. It’s a simple way to pray, but I have found it to be quite powerful.
Remember, there is no right or wrong way to pray. It is your relationship with God that you are growing. The words aren’t nearly as important as an open heart and mind. If you have never had the discipline of a strong prayer life, make a promise to yourself to begin soon. You have nothing to lose and everything to gain a beautiful relationship with your God.
Nestled in the north-west corner between The Basilica, the sacristy, and the rectory sits The Basilica’s Mary Garden, a hidden treasure waiting to be discovered or discovered anew. Last Saturday, Karen Harrison and Wanda Sweeney were busy at work in the garden tidying it up in anticipation of the beginning of the month of May, dedicated to the Blessed Mother. They tend the garden lovingly and faithfully all year long.
The Basilica of Saint Mary is one of only a handful of churches in the United States that has a true Mary Garden. Often people mistakenly think that any garden with a statue of Mary in it is a Mary Garden. Rather, they are much more complex than that and mostly void of a statue.
Mary Gardens originated in Medieval France and its surrounding countries. The basic concept is an enclosed garden known as a hortus conclusus referencing the virginity of Mary. Each flower in the garden represents one of Mary’s virtues. The Lily, e.g. represents Mary’s purity; the Bleeding Heart represents Mary’s sorrow; Solomon’s Seal represents Mary’s wisdom; Gilly Flower represents Mary’s fidelity; and Violets represent Mary’s modesty, to name but a few. The Garden as a whole thus symbolizes Mary with all her strengths and virtues.
Mary Gardens traditionally do not have a statue of Mary in them as the garden itself is intended to be a representation of Mary. And different from praying before a statue of Mary, believers enter the garden and, aided by the colors and fragrance of the flowers, they spiritually immerse themselves in Mary’s virtues while praying that her virtues may become theirs.
The idea for a Mary Garden at The Basilica of Saint Mary was proposed by the Friends of the Basilica of Saint Mary, now known as The Basilica Landmark. After years of study and planning, The Basilica’s Mary Garden became reality in 1997. Staying as true as possible to the medieval concept, the original design was done by Stacy Moriarty of Moriarty/Cordon. Given the difference in climate and the specifics of the shady location of our garden, the traditional selection of plants did not thrive. Thus, after careful consideration and with due respect to the original design, the Garden was enhanced in 2008 with the help of Brad Agee of the Department of Landscape Architecture at the University of Minnesota to include more hardy plants. Standing in the tradition of those who assigned Mary’s virtues to the original selection of plants, Mary Ritten recognized and described Marian virtues in the newly selected plants, more suited for our Minnesota winters.
The Basilica’s Mary Garden thus is a reinterpretation of the traditional French Mary Garden adapted to our Minnesota weather, no less inspired and no less inspirational. To give but a few examples, sweet autumn clematis, a vigorous vine speaks to Mary’s tenacity and courage while facing her many trials. The yellow flowers in Mary’s Mantle remind us of the radiance of Mary as a source of consolation. The roses are a clear reference to Mary’s title in the Litany of Loretto as Rosa Mystica or Mystical Rose.
Though originally intended to have no representation of Mary in the Garden, Beckoning, a bronze sculpture by Gloria Tew was installed in the garden in the year 2000. This was in response to multiple requests for a statue of Mary. However, in order to be true to the original concept of a Mary Garden, the sculpture is semi-abstract and intentionally ambiguous.
Her placement in the garden and the way she holds her hands can indeed be interpreted as Mary inviting us in. It may also be understood as a more abstract representation of hospitality and invitation. Regardless of who you might think she is, her goal and ours is that you enter the Mary Garden especially during this month of May dedicated to Mary and spend some time in it. Inspired by its beauty, we invite you to meditate on the virtues of Mary represented by the flowers in the garden and to pray that her virtues may become yours.
In the years since I have been ordained I’ve always made it a practice wherever I’ve lived to designate a special area for prayer. Usually this area is in a corner of my bedroom. I have my “prayer chair” there as well as a small table on which I keep my Breviary, various scripture commentaries, a candle, and sundry other items. One of the items that I added about ten years ago was a small digital clock someone had given me. I use this clock when I’m at prayer—especially in the morning—to make sure I don’t lose track of time. A few weeks ago I noticed that the display on the clock was getting dimmer and dimmer, so I knew it was time to replace the batteries.
Now resetting this clock has become increasingly problematic the past few years. When I first got it, I was able to reset the time by pressing my finger on the display. Unfortunately over the years, the screen has become less and less responsive to my touch. And after replacing the batteries, I couldn’t reset the time no matter how many times I touched, pressed, pushed, or manipulated my finger on the screen. It occurred to me that it might be time to replace the clock, but since it had served me well for ten years, I just let it sit for a few days to see if it would eventually respond to my touch.
Now I have to say that while initially it wasn’t a problem that I couldn’t reset the clock, after a few days it did begin to bother me. I liked being able to glance up when I was reflecting on the scriptures and know how long I had been at it. I took a certain pride in the fact that at times I thought I had been praying for 15 minutes only to glance at the clock and realize it had actually been 25 minutes. At other times, of course, I would glance at the clock only to realize that what I thought had been 15 minutes was only 5 minutes.
After about a week of praying without knowing the “right” time, I had a sudden insight that perhaps I had turned what was initially a convenience, into a “measure.” Further, it occurred to me that God might be trying to tell me that the time I gave to God in prayer shouldn’t be measured or timed. It should be God’s time. And it should take as long as it takes. Timing my prayer not only wasn’t being very respectful of God, but more importantly it was turning what should have been a relationship into a duty.
A few days after the above revelation, I was telling another priest about it. He suggested that perhaps I needed to re-think how I approached my prayer time. Then in passing he said: “And you know you might want to try using a stylus to reset your clock.” He then gave me an extra stylus that he had. And when I got home, voilà—problem solved. I was able to reset the clock. The other problem remained, though, of checking the time during my prayer. I ultimately decided that the clock could stay, but that I would only check it once during my prayer time. So far this seems to be working, and it has made me more conscious of the fact that prayer is time with God, and that since God is more concerned that I pray, than with how much time I spend in prayer, perhaps this should be my goal too.
The Easter season has always been a highlight for me in my faith but this year is a bit different. It seems a little weird to be talking about Lent but that is where it all began for me. Usually when Lent rolls around, I often think of things I could “give up” but mostly, I think about things I can do extra, like more time in prayer. But the past few years I have begun Lent asking God to show me what God wanted of me and what God wanted me to learn and how to grow spiritually. Well, I might have to stop this practice as each of the last few years, God has very actively led me where God wanted me to be and had me learn exactly what I needed to learn! This has not been easy because, you see, I have this will to do things my way and not have anything or anyone interfere with my “plan for living.” And each Lent I have asked myself, “Is this the way for me to go through Lent?” It would be so much easier for me to just give up soda or fast longer and give more alms. Don’t get me wrong…I am not saying these things aren’t good Lenten practices. All I am saying is that for me this is what God has led me to do.
As I traveled through my own Lenten journey, I was also joined with our RCIA catechumens and candidates. This is always something special for me as they draw their strength from the various scriptures and share their insights into the stories of Jesus and his encounters with many different people in the gospels. They feel supported and loved by our community through your prayers and notes to them, which leaves me feeling inspired on my Lenten journey, too.
Also, and most importantly, God has very clearly been showing me where in my life I needed to clean out the closets of my soul. I knew there were some things that needed rearranging, but God wanted me to clean them out to make more room for God’s love in my life. What a gift this awareness has been. It is not easy letting go of some of these things, like my will or my selfishness or my pride. And they will undoubtedly still pop back up in my life, and sometimes, everyday. But at least I am more aware of when they do and I pray that God will continue to increase my awareness.
This “letting go” has allowed me to be more aware of the needs of others, especially, others’ need for mercy. After all, this year is the Year of Mercy declared by Pope Francis. And today we celebrate Divine Mercy Sunday. There are some days that have been better than others. It seems that when I am less open to this process, the more I am faced with instances where my heart needs to grow bigger and my pride needs to lessen quite a bit. And then there are those days in which my faith falls short and I need a bigger God because the things I have done or not done have limited God’s love and mercy in my life.
At the end of this long journey of Lent comes the moment of resurrection. We are graced because we know the ending to Lent. We know that death is not final. We know the power and strength of the resurrection. And we can rest and delight in the joy of Jesus truly risen within our hearts.